Control
by MissFantabulous
Summary: "He didn't understand how this could happen to them; they were the best people with the best hearts. No one deserved a child more." Post-TOW the Fertility Test oneshot. Mondler.


**A/N: **Here's a post-TOW the Fertility Test oneshot. It's my longest standalone yet! Also, I wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or PM'd me about any of my other Mondler fics. I appreciate it more than you know; your words never fail to put a smile on my face :)

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It was no secret that Joey Tribbiani wasn't exactly the greatest with words unless they were already written for him, and even then it was never guaranteed.

However, no script could have ever prepared him for this.

"It's not fair, Joe. It's just not fucking fair at all."

Joey winced at Chandler's uncharacteristic curse. He stood motionless, his arms folded over his chest, unsure of what to say.

"She's wanted this for so long, you know?" Chandler said, leaning his elbows against the balcony railing as he took a long drag of his cigarette. "And I can't give it to her... I can't give her the one thing she wants most in the world."

"Chandler, it's not-"

"I mean, what the fuck kind of husband am I if I can't give her children?"

Joey swallowed back the lump in his throat. Not once in the twelve years he'd known Chandler had he ever seen his best friend so upset, and it was killing him. He didn't understand how this could happen to them; they were the best people with the best hearts. No one deserved a child more.

A flash of dark hair caught his eye and he breathed a sigh of relief. He took a step towards the opened window, grateful for her appearance, and silently offered a hand as Monica climbed through.

She shot a small smile in his direction, which he returned sympathetically. He could tell she was just as broken as Chandler was, and he prayed to a higher being that they would pull each other through.

Joey leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before crawling through the window, leaving the hurting couple alone.

"Hi," Monica greeted quietly.

Chandler turned to face her, their blue eyes reflecting the same despair.

"Can I have one?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion until he remembered he was still holding the lit cigarette between his fingers.

"Oh, uh, yeah."

He reached into his coat pocket and handed her the pack and a lighter.

Watching in fascination as his wife's long fingers deftly extracted a cigarette from the box, Chandler found himself amazed at how such a simple movement could look so graceful.

Monica brought the cigarette to her lips with shaky hands and he realized how cold she must be, clad in only a sheer blouse.

"Here," he walked over to her and removed his jacket, placing it delicately over her shoulders.

She mumbled a thank you and took a drag of the cigarette. Chandler tilted his head, watching as tiny puffs of smoke came bursting through her parted lips.

Everything she did was so beautiful. _She_ was so beautiful.

"God," Monica said with a sigh. "I think I was 20 the last time I smoked."

Chandler smirked. "You mean that time we snuck out of your house after Thanksgiving dinner?"

She nodded, taking a seat on the small table as she took another hit. "That was the year Ross announced he was going to pursue a doctorate."

"Yeah," Chandler said, recalling the evening that felt like a lifetime ago. "You probably asked your mom to pass the green beans like ten times."

"And she just wouldn't shut up about how he'd be Dr. Geller in a few years," Monica continued with an eye roll.

Chandler smiled softly at her. "I think that was the first night I realized I really liked you."

"Because I wanted the green beans?" Monica questioned with a curious smirk as she put out the cigarette.

He shook his head and knelt down before her. "Remember? After you caught me smoking out on the porch and we left to go get ice cream, we sat in my car and talked for hours."

"Oh, yeah."

"I realized you weren't just Ross' hot sister who cut off part of my toe."

"Oh god," Monica said with an embarrassed chuckle. "I remember being so excited when you asked if I wanted to sneak out. I was sure you hated me."

The smile on Chandler's face fell. He reached up and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I could never hate you, Monica."

Her blue eyes met his, the mood instantly shifting at the sincerity of his words. She leaned in and rested her hands on either side of his face.

"I love you so much."

Chandler placed his hands over hers and turned his head, kissing her palm. "I love you, too."

She gently touched her forehead to his and they each shut their eyes in attempt to ward back the tears they knew were bound to come.

Chandler opened and closed his mouth, searching desperately for any words of comfort to offer his wife, but for once, he was speechless. There were just no words to fully express how awful he felt.

"It never once crossed my mind that this would happen to me...to us," Monica said suddenly, her voice quivering. "I never even considered it."

He inhaled a sharp breath and pulled away, taking one of her hands in his and brushing away her hair from her face with another. He stared at his wife and felt his heart physically ache. She never looked as small or as lost as she did in that moment.

"We'll get through this, Mon. If it's the last thing I do, I swear, I'll give you a child."

His words were filled with heaviness as he struggled to protect her from what was out of his control.

"I mean, you're the one who named Emma, right? Doesn't that give us some legal right to kidnap her?" Chandler joked instinctively.

He searched her face for a smile, or any semblance of one, in vain. He bit down on his lip anxiously, internally chastising himself and studying her pained expression.

For as long as he'd known her, Chandler knew the one thing Monica craved and relied on was control. And now, faced with a devastating situation where she had absolutely none at all made everything even more difficult to cope with.

As desperately as she tried to prevent it, a few renegade tears made their way slowly down her face. Chandler stood and guided her to him, kissing her cheeks before embracing her tightly.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," he whispered into her hair, choking up.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she sobbed into his chest. They stood together, tearfully mourning the loss of the children that would never be. The children that would never inherit Monica's eyes or Chandler's smile. The children that would never be annoyed by Mommy's often overbearing ways or Daddy's incessant joking.

The children that would never be theirs.

They stood there together for a while - exactly how long? Chandler wasn't sure; a sense of time always seemed to escape him when they were together - until her loud sobs turned into quiet sniffles.

Monica pulled away from him slowly, and he grabbed her hands, intertwining them with his own. She looked up at him and sighed.

"You really think we'll get through this?"

Chandler cocked his head and nodded wordlessly. He leaned down, brushing his lips tenderly against her forehead, then her eyelids, her nose, each cheekbone, and finally, her lips, doing his best to convey both his love for her and his grief for their loss.

And in that moment, their mutual belief that they could overcome anything as long as they had each other, was reaffirmed.


End file.
